


Practically Perfect in Every Way

by atimi (bertee)



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Community: j2_everafter, Dog(s), Dogsitter, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-21
Updated: 2009-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 03:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/364626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertee/pseuds/atimi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Banker!Jared employs Jensen as a dog-sitter. He then fears for the safety of the world. A Mary Poppins J2AU for j2_everafter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Practically Perfect in Every Way

If the world ended, it would be Jensen's fault.

Not that he was actively trying to destroy it - Jared struggled to picture Jensen as a maniacal super-villain out to blow up the planet - but he didn't put it past him to do it accidentally. This theory (which Jared had dubbed 'Jensengeddon') revolved around the principle that if there was too much perfect in one place, God, karma, or whatever other force regulated perfection would be unable to deal with it, and so the universe would just give up and implode.

The exact mechanics of Jensengeddon were a work in progress but Jared felt that his concern was still valid. He was sufficiently prepared for nuclear war, the melting of the polar ice caps, and zombie apocalypses, but was helpless in the face of this latest threat.

There was no stopping Jensengeddon. The man was just too perfect.

When he'd initially hired Jensen, this hadn't been a problem. As an employee of one of the largest financial corporations in Dallas, Jared needed to work long hours and so Jensen had been the latest in a long, long line of dog-sitters tasked with looking after his lovable yet boisterous puppies. From their first meeting, he'd been the perfect candidate for the job and it hadn't taken long for Jared to realize that Jensen was practically perfect in every area imaginable.

  
**+++**   


  
**Sanity, Appearance, Professionalism, Edibility**

"Dude." Chad scooped up a handful of peanuts, approximately half of which made it into his mouth. "What the fuck did you write in that ad?"

Looking down at his papers, Jared protested, "Nothing! It was normal and ordinary and..."

His words lacked conviction and Chad lacked pity. "You sure? You didn't slip a 'Crazy People, Please Apply!' in there anywhere?" He put a hand on Jared's shoulder and said with mock sympathy, "Y'know, you can tell me if you were high when you sent it in. I won't judge you, bro." He chomped on some more nuts and reconsidered. "Screw that, I'll judge you if you got baked without me. You should always be sharing the goods, Jay."

Jared refrained from pointing out that Chad had already abused his sharing hospitality by munching his way through a large proportion of Jared's snack-foods, and instead read through his advertisement again. "It really isn't that bad. "Required: live-in dog-sitter in N. Dallas area. Experience preferred. Salary and accommodation info available on request." None of that reads like a beacon to the mentally unbalanced."

Chad shrugged. "Must just be you. You're like the Pied Piper of Merlin."

"Hamlin."

"What?"

"The guy who led all the rats was the Pied Piper of Hamlin, not Merlin."

"No, wait." Chad's brow wrinkled. "It was definitely Merlin. I saw this thing on TV with a guy called Merlin in it, and he had magic powers and shit." Chad's brow wrinkled further, and Jared wondered whether this was the hardest he'd ever thought about anything in his whole life. "And there was a blond guy in it too. It was really kinda gay." He looked brightly at Jared. "Do you know the guys who made it?"

Jared rolled his eyes. "For the last time, the Gay Stonemasons do not exist. You do not get access to some big secret society if you happen to like men instead of women."

Chad eyed him suspiciously. "Yeah, but how do I know they didn't swear you to secrecy? There could've been some big, gay initiation ritual where you check out each other's asses and worship at the shrine of Neil Patrick Harris and slaughter some goats for prosperity."

"You've given this way too much thought."

"Don't mean it's not true," he concluded smugly before venturing back on topic. "Anyway, you're the Merlin Pie guy. You're like Noah leading the crazies to Mecca."

Jared had learned from bitter experience that if you didn't even know where to start in dealing with one of Chad's statements, it was better not to.

"They haven't all been crazy..."

Chad snorted. "Name one of these people that you would actually want living in your house."

"Fair point," he conceded. "But it's not like I'd want you living here either."

"I don't live here. I just show up to eat your food and judge your housemates," Chad admitted without a trace of remorse. "Plus, I'm way better at saying no to people than you are. I think it's all those years of turning down your gay advances."

"Gay advances?" Jared was insulted on behalf of his taste in men. "When have I ever come on to you?"

"You come on to me all the fucking time," Chad said casually. This was news to Jared, who struggled to maintain a platonic interest in Chad, let alone a sexual one. "What with your hugging and your giant hands... It's a good thing I'm so skilled at protecting the sanctity of my ass."

Now imagining Chad's ass as the besieged Bastille, Jared was immensely grateful when the doorbell rang, signaling the next interview for the position of dog-sitter. Wanting to give the newcomer the job purely on the basis that they'd stopped Jared thinking about Chad's ass being attacked by angry Frenchmen, he pushed himself to his feet as his friend inquired through a mouthful of peanuts, "Who's up next?"

Jared consulted his sheet. "Uh, Jensen Ackles. Male, 29, plenty of experience."

Chad made a noise that was half chomp, half disinterest. "'Jensen'? Dude, with a name like that, he's gonna be another psycho. Probably got raised by hippies."

Walking to the door, Jared called back, "This coming from the guy who was named after the things punched out of voting slips?"

"My mom was very political!"

Ignoring Chad's retort, Jared reached for the doorknob, praying that this interview wouldn't go as terribly as the previous ones.

God was obviously firing on all cylinders that morning and relief washed over Jared when he saw the guy on the other side.

Whereas one potential dog-sitter had shown up wearing electric blue hotpants and a shirt proclaiming his love of communism, Jensen's dark jeans, fitted blue tee, and well-worn running shoes put him in Jared's accepted range of clothing normality. His mussed hair, strong arms, and slim body allowed Jared to classify him as Hot (with a capital 'H' because the matter was not up for debate) but it was the glint in his eyes and the hint of freckles across his face that prompted the 'Want. Now.' thoughts which started to flash through Jared's head.

"Mr Padalecki?"

Jared blinked. "Wha-?"

He found himself on the receiving end of the slightly nervous smile he'd been giving to applicants all morning and tried again, "Sorry, yes, that's me. Jared Padalecki."

Now that he had proof his potential employer could form a sentence, Jensen's smile relaxed again and Jared took his offered hand. "Jensen Ackles. I'm here about the dog-sitting position?"

Jared had to remind himself that he was not Chad and would not suggest other positions he'd like Jensen to be in. "Yep, we were expecting you. Come in, come in."

Following Jared inside, Jensen inquired politely, "'We'?" They reached the lounge, where Jared reluctantly took the nut-strewn seat beside Chad, and Jensen smiled in comprehension. "Oh. 'We'."

"What?" Wide-eyed, Jared looked between Jensen and his friend, and shook his head in panic. "No! No 'we'. Me and him... No. No 'we' in that sense."

"Oh, you're not together?" Jared thought he heard relief in Jensen's voice but decided he must have been projecting.

Fortunately, Chad saved him from any more confusion with a well-timed snort. "Together? Fuck, no. I don't care how much he looks like a girl - I'm not getting on board that train."

Jared gave a long-suffering sigh. "Thank you, Chad."

As far as Chad was concerned, sarcasm was just a nasty rumor. "You're welcome, bro." He looked back to Jensen. "I'm just here to make sure he gets the right guy for the job. Kinda like American Idol." He patted Jared on the shoulder. "He's Paula."

Jared scrubbed a hand across his face. "Why am I friends with you?"

"Because otherwise you'd have hired the dog-sitter who tried to talk to you in Klingon," Chad explained.

"I was worried about racial discrimination lawsuits-"

"Or the old lady who thought the road to Hell was paved with candy."

"She was very passionate about her cause-"

"Or the stoner who told you that you had awesome nostrils."

"It was a compliment..."

Giving up, Chad turned his attention to Jensen. "What do you think of Padalecki's nostrils?"

Seeing the rabbit-in-the-headlights look on Jensen's ridiculously pretty face, Jared reassured, "You don't need to answer that."

"Yes, he does. I've learned from my mistakes - you need to know right off the bat if your housemate has a weird obsession with your nostrils. It's an important part of the interview process." Fixing Jensen with a steely gaze, he reiterated, "Nostril thoughts. Go."

Before Jared could protest again, Jensen ventured, "They look functional, which is really all you can ask from nostrils."

"Yes! Exactly!" Both men looked surprised by Chad's strong opinions on the subject, but he pressed on, "Okay, what animals are you here to look after?"

Remembering the aforementioned stoner's comment of "Wow, those are some freaky looking ferrets" when greeted by Harley and Sadie, Jared followed Chad's logic in asking the question but still felt guilty when a baffled Jensen replied, "Um, dogs?"

"Awesome." Chad scrawled some notes on his clipboard and before Jared could ponder too much about where the hell he'd found a clipboard, he asked, "Multiple choice: is candy a) an omen of the Antichrist or b) tasty and delicious?"

"Tasty and delicious," Jensen answered, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he settled into Chad's style of interview.

"Correct. Are you now or have you ever been the owner of a Richard Simmons work-out tape?"

Jared had an unpleasant flashback to the candidate who had handed them a leaflet about the Church of Simmons ("Catholics may have blood, but only through the worship of Simmons can you also have sweat and tears with your communion") and was relieved by Jensen's reply of "No."

Chad cleared his throat. "Okay. One more very important question and you need to think carefully about this: would you be able to cope with Padalecki having loud, hot, sweaty, kinky, gay sex upstairs?"

Jared gaped soundlessly at his friend. Unable to get his head around just how inappropriate that question was, he voiced the first objection that came to mind, "I'm not kinky!"

"But you are very, very sweaty," his friend assured before eyeing Jensen expectantly. "Well?"

Jensen smirked. "I'd manage."

"Cool." He looked back at Jared, not even bothering to lower his voice when he declared, "I like this one. You can keep him."

Jared wondered if this was how parents felt when their child said something loud and embarrassing in public. Ignoring Chad, he fixed Jensen with what he hoped was a comforting smile and began on the more important questions. "Mr Ackles, you said on the phone that you'd had experience with this kind of work?"

The other man nodded. "I just finished up a similar position with the Harris family, and before that, I worked for the Cassidy, Cohen and Beaver families, looking after their dogs and doing some general housekeeping." He passed him a leaf of papers with the explanation, "Those are my references."

There was a loud barking from the kitchen, and Jared tucked the papers out of sight before they could be shredded by his ever-inquisitive dogs. After departing in earlier protest at being referred to as ferrets, Sadie and Harley came bounding back into the lounge. Out of what seemed to be a mutual understanding, they ignored Chad but Jared was surprised when he himself didn't even get a passing lick as the dogs ran straight to Jensen.

He watched silently as they explored the newcomer, sniffing and licking to satisfy their curiosity. Always the more direct of the two, Harley planted his front paws on Jensen's thighs and pushed himself up to stare down his new potential carer. He was swiftly won over by a scratch behind the ear and after giving Jensen's face an approving lick, settled happily across his lap and began drooling on the couch cushion. Sadie, on the other hand, was more reserved in her approach and Jensen let her nudge his legs with her nose until she decided that yes, she would be happy with this choice of dog-sitter, and gnawed on his ankle.

Knowing that there was no higher praise than trying to be eaten by his dogs, Jared leaned back on the couch with a genuine smile, deciding that he'd found the perfect dog-sitter.

  
**+++**  


  
**Energy, Providing food, Being sympathetic**  


"N'urgh."

The coffee machine remained cruelly inactive.

Jared slapped it.

Still no coffee.

"N'urrrrgh."

"Morning."

Startled by the voice behind him, Jared spun round, limbs flailing like a sleep-deprived ninja, and came face to face with a very awake, very cheerful Jensen.

In the lingering fog of sleep, he'd actually forgotten that Jensen had moved in the day before and was now wishing that he'd put a robe on over his Tweety Bird boxers and Incredible Hulk tee - greeting his new employee-cum-housemate while wearing a green shirt reading "HULK SMASH!" in big angry letters was not the best way to start the morning. The situation wasn't helped when, peering through his disheveled bangs, he saw that Jensen was dressed in company appropriate attire and was out of breath from playing outside with Jared's dogs while Jared himself had been busy cursing the inventor of the alarm clock.

Thinking that things probably weren't going to work out with Jensen if he was going to stand there being Judgey McJudgerson when Jared rolled out of bed in the morning, he nevertheless greeted him with as much courtesy as he could manage.

"Mornin'."

With that formality out of the way, he moved to the coffee maker and decided to see whether a thump would work better than a slap.

It didn't.

"You want some pancakes?"

If Jared had been physically capable of opening his eyes the whole way at that hour, he would've done so. "Pancakes?"

"There's French toast if you prefer," Jensen offered. "Or I could cook you some bacon? I was going to do eggs, but I didn't know what type you liked."

Even half-asleep, Jared found it sort of cute that Jensen thought he would actually discriminate against any kind of eggs. Seeing as how it was Jensen's first day, he made an attempt to be polite rather than launching himself at the food like a sugar-seeking missile. "Y'know, y'don't need to do this. You're meant to look after the dogs." He paused for a yawn. "Not me."

Jensen shrugged, busying himself with stacking very thick, very delicious pancakes onto a plate. "It's no trouble. I made some for myself and figured you'd want something to eat before work." He moved the plate while he talked. Jared followed it with his eyes and tried not to drool. "I can just throw them away if you don't want them..."

Jared was only held back from screaming "Nooooooo!" and lunging in slow-motion towards the pancakes by his sluggish brain, which limited him to holding his hand out and saying at normal volume, "No, it's alright - I'll take them."

The pancakes were in his possession in a second, and any Gollum-esque claims of "Mine. Mine, my precioussss..." were (temporarily) impeded by Jensen's question of "Do you want syrup?"

It was a testament to Jensen's inexperience that he phrased that as a question. Never one to knowingly turn down syrup, Jared made grabby hands and was rewarded with the maple syrup, which he used to douse his pancakes. When they were almost swimming in Lake Syrup, Jared chowed down and groaned happily as the influx of sugar dragged him back to the land of the living.

Basking in sugary heaven, he praised, "That was fucking awesome. You're like a little food elf."

Leaning against the counter with a chunk of French toast halfway to his mouth, Jensen retorted teasingly, "You calling me short?"

Jared licked the last of the syrup off his fork and moaned again in pleasure. "Dude, you make me breakfast like that, and I'll call you whatever you want." He contemplated this. "Well, maybe not whatever you want. I'd feel weird calling you Betty or Harriet or something, but if you want a call sign, I am totally down with that. You could be Maverick, or Goose, or Pancake, or..." He trailed off at the half-amused, half-pitying smirk on Jensen's face. "I really shouldn't be allowed to talk before I have my shower, should I?"

Jensen just grinned, tearing off some pancake and giving it to Harley as he ambled past.

Envious of the coordination displayed in the simple action, Jared made his apologies. "I'm not always like this, I swear. Like, ninety-nine percent of the time, I don't dress like the Incredible Hulk and growl at coffee makers and call people food. Please don't leave and go to work for someone else."

"You can't get rid of me that easily." Jensen snagged Jared's empty plate from the table and let Sadie lick at the traces of syrup before putting it in the dishwasher. "Anyway, I sympathize. I'm practically a zombie until I get some coffee in me."

Jared eyed him doubtfully. "But you're so... chirpy."

From his tone, chirpiness was akin to a deadly disease, and Jensen smiled. "Totally a product of caffeine. When I woke up, I spent twenty minutes calling your dogs 'Waffle' and 'Biscuit'."

Jared's someone-else-calls-things-after-food glee dimmed when he realized that Jensen was probably lying. "Are you mocking me?"

Jensen chuckled, moving to clean up the breakfast mess. "You won't remember any of this after your shower."

He pouted. "You suck."

"And you need to get to work," Jensen reminded him, stroking Sadie as she wandered around his ankles. "I'll take them out for a run once they've said goodbye to their daddy."

Sadie barked happily at that, bounding over to get some love from Jared before sniffing him and returning to the nicer smelling Jensen.

Taking the hint, Jared headed out of the kitchen, acquiescing, "Fine, fine, I'll shower."

Sadie yapped her approval, and he grinned to himself when Jensen yelled up after him, "You want me to make you a lunch?"

  
**+++**  


  
**Providing yet more food, Cleanliness, Being a manly wife**  


The door swung shut behind him as his keys fell into the bowl with a familiar jangle.

A second later Jared was tackled by the dogs, who, despite spending the entire day running around with Jensen, never failed to find the energy to greet him with enthusiasm when he rolled home every evening.

Shoulders tense from a long day at work, Jared crouched down, patting Sadie's side as she pressed her wet nose against his neck. "Hey, girl. You have fun with Uncle Jensen today?"

Harley answered for her, growling contentedly while he pushed his way into the group hug in search of some affection. Obliging, Jared looked up when Jensen wandered out of the kitchen and asked with a grin, "So, Martha Stewart, what's for dinner?"

He'd asked the same question, usually with the same lame Martha Stewart joke, every day for the month that Jensen had been living with him, and every day, without fail, Jensen had managed to prepare some amazing food for when Jared got home in the evening. True, sometimes it was Chinese takeout when Jensen had been busy or had taken a day off, but it was still more awesome than when Jared himself ordered it. (This change in quality was utterly inexplicable and so he'd concluded that Jensen was either magic or offering sexual favors to Mr Yeung. Jared really hoped it was the former.)

That night proved to be no different when Jensen replied, "Lasagna. It should be ready in ten minutes."

Also, like every other day that month, Jared felt the strange urge to kiss Jensen. Other than the obvious reason that Jensen's lips were goddamn created to be kissed, he hypothesized that this was because of the married-couple element to their daily routine. Every day, Jensen would prepare his food, look after his dogs, clean the house, and then have dinner cooking when he walked through the door in the evening.

Not that Jensen was especially wife-like - Jared had been reminded of his masculinity when Jensen kicked his ass on Halo 3, burped the alphabet with pride, and pinned him to the floor in an immovable hold after Jared had made one too many short jokes - but that didn't stop the kissing urges. There was something about Jensen that made Jared want to lean in on the couch and kiss him, or back him up against the wall and kiss him, or spin him round in the kitchen and kiss him, and the fact that he couldn't do any of the above made him sad.

It wasn't even the issue of sexual orientation. Despite having never come right out and asked, he was ninety percent certain that Jensen was gay. (This knowledge was based on a very accurate formula involving the number of pink shirts he owned, the number of times he'd been caught humming along to N*Sync songs, and the number of episodes of America's Next Top Model he'd TIVO'd.)

What was more of a problem was that Jensen was technically his employee. It may not have felt like it when Jensen was kicking his ass, but the payslips said it was so, and therefore any misjudged advances could be construed as sexual harassment. That, and it was kind of inappropriate to be having sex with a guy he was paying to live in his house.

Once more resigned to the fact that there would be no Jensen-kissage in his near future, Jared nudged the dogs away into the lounge and called through to the kitchen, "I'm gonna go get changed real quick."

"'Kay." There were sounds of plates being gathered, and Jensen yelled back, "I got you some more shampoo if you wanna take a shower."

If it had been any one of his ex-boyfriends, Jared would've been creeped out that they were keeping tabs on the level of his hair products, but this was Jensen. He doubted there was a single thing in the house that Jensen didn't know about, including the tub of Vaseline in his nightstand that Jensen had replaced with a water-based lubricant and a smiley Post-It.

"Thanks!"

However, the full bottle of shampoo by the sink did not deter him from snooping around the upstairs bathroom.

As much as he loved having Jensen living in his house, Jared felt a little like he was about to die from the sexual frustration of having someone that perfect around but not being morally able to make a move on them. If he tried to find something wrong with the bathroom Jensen had cleaned, then he was simply being thorough as an employer and not at all obsessive over Jensen's apparent lack of flaws.

"Here, dirt, dirt, dirt. Here, dirt..."

Cooing softly to an imaginary stain, Jared shucked off his suit jacket and began his investigation.

This investigation was not fruitful.

The sink got a clean bill of health, as did the smudge-free mirror and the glass paneling of the shower. The tub was spotless and the tiled floor was complete free from smears or stray hairs, which was remarkable given Jared's tendency to molt. Even the toilet bowl and seat had been scrubbed so well that he was afraid Jensen had rigged up some self-cleaning mechanism that would kick into action while he was still shaking off the last drops. Reaching his last resort, Jared even got on his knees to inspect the pipes behind the toilet.

He hadn't known his pipes could literally sparkle with cleanliness, but there they were, sparkly, clean, and mocking his doubt of Jensen's housework prowess.

Jared slumped to the (equally shiny) floor with a sigh. If Jensen wasn't beaten by his constant need for food, the dogs' constant need for attention, or the constantly neglected areas of the bathroom, then Jared would just have to step up his game.

  
**+++**  


  
**Sweatiness, Observance, Obedience**  


For the next month, Jared managed to keep his investigations into Jensen's perfectness fairly low-key.

This was mostly because work left him far too tired to argue with the man providing him with food, beverages, a clean house, happy dogs, and much needed company; if a gift-horse was this awesome, Jared was usually happy just to worship it and not spare a single glance at its mouth region. The few times he had snooped around his house, or tried to trick Jensen into slipping up and admitting an imperfection, he'd come up blank.

It was only when Jared stared to worry about the safety of the world as a whole that he decided he should take action to prevent Jensengeddon.

This action was remarkably like stalking, but he figured that all world-saving superheroes needed a dark side. He was practically Batman.

That morning, he'd dressed and gone off to work as usual, with his stomach full of bacon and scrambled eggs and his briefcase full of notes on small business loans and emergency candy rations from Jensen. However, instead of making it to work, he'd taken the day off and had proceeded to subtly follow Jensen around for the entire day. He'd watched him take the dogs to the park, go grocery shopping, and pick up Jared's dry-cleaning, but had yet to catch him selling drugs to schoolchildren, kicking puppies, or doing anything else that might indicate he was not as wonderful as he appeared.

And so he found himself sitting in his car in the evening heat, watching as Jensen jogged along the suburban sidewalk with Harley and Sadie running joyfully ahead of him. Jensen's white tee clung to his body, his hair visibly damp with sweat as he ran at a quick pace, and Jared stared in half-annoyance, half-appreciation. Seeing as he himself was at his most disgusting when he was sweaty, he was frustrated to realize that sweaty Jensen had found his way onto Jared's list of 'Things That Should Be Gross But That I Mostly Just Want to Lick'. (Also on this list: sugar spilled on the floor, bananas covered with maple syrup, and Robert Pattinson.)

Parking his car at the end of the street, Jared took a moment to have happy thoughts about Jensen bouncing and sweating in a different scenario. Lost in perplexing yet important thoughts about what Mr Perfect would call out in bed, he frowned when he realized Jensen had stopped jogging and was now talking to a long-haired guy who was sitting on a low wall and playing guitar.

He turned clumsily around in his seat, thankful he'd changed out of his suit and tie at the beginning of his day of espionage, and looked out of the back window at the guitar guy talking animatedly to Jensen and clapping him on the shoulder in a gesture that indicated this was not the first time they'd met. A pang of something Jared refused to acknowledge as jealousy shot through him at the irrefutable evidence that Jensen had a friend.

A not entirely unattractive friend.

A not entirely unattractive friend who shared Jensen's interest in music.

A not entirely unattractive friend who shared Jensen's interest in music and who was mostly likely dating Jensen.

And probably fucking him.

Jared's bottom lip stuck out in a pout, and the pang made itself known again. It was definitely jealousy.

Trying to console himself with the knowledge that Jensen having a boyfriend meant, as far as Jared was concerned, Jensen had a flaw and thus the world was saved from perfection implosion, he watched Harley and Sadie pad over to the boyfriend in question and murmured quiet instructions under his breath, "Attack! Attack! The hairy man is standing in the way of Uncle Jensen and Daddy living happily ever after." Realizing that sounded like he was encouraging his dogs to help him commit incest, he settled for a simple cackle, "Attaaaaack..."

Like the Wicked Witch of the West if her flying monkeys had been sucked into a jet engine, Jared sighed in exasperation when Sadie and Harley remained oblivious to their master's psychic wishes and pounced on Guitar Guy, covering him in sloppy dog-kisses as Jensen laughed from the sidelines (which Jared found mildly comforting - if Jensen could laugh while the man was being mauled, Guitar Guy was clearly a sucky boyfriend.)

Thinking he preferred the perfect, single version of Jensen, Jared turned back around and slumped down in his seat, dealing with the unhappy conclusion that he'd spent the whole day spying on his dog-sitter only to have said dog-sitter's relationship with another man thrown in his face. He slid the key into the ignition, ready to admit defeat and to head home, but let out a high-pitched scream when, instead of the loud rumble of the engine, there was a sharp rap on his window.

Jensen smiled at him from outside the car.

Jared tried to coax his heart back down out of his throat and managed a weak wave in return.

Figuring he couldn't just hide in his SUV, he opened the window reluctantly and came face to face with a flushed, still out-of-breath Jensen. "Hi."

Jensen smiled, looking genuinely happy to see him. "Hey. I saw the car from down the street; you get off work early or something?"

Not so happy about Jensen's freaking telescopic powers of observation, Jared was relieved that he'd at least provided him with an excuse, to which he gladly laid claim. "Yep. Got off work early. That is exactly what happened today."

Jensen raised an eyebrow but didn't probe further. "Great. Listen, it'll take me another thirty minutes to get the dogs back home, but I can start on dinner as soon as I get back. Unless there was something else you needed me to do?"

Recognizing the question as Jensen's very evasive, Jensen-ish way of asking just what the fuck Jared was doing loitering in his car, he concocted an appropriate answer, "Actually, I was thinking I could take them from here."

Jensen looked suitably suspicious, which only reinforced Jared's opinion that he failed at espionage. "You sure? I really don't mind taking them-"

"Nope. I want to." He put on his stubborn face, which had only ever been used in arguments regarding pre-breakfast candy. (Arguments which Jensen usually won.) "Seriously, dude, they're my dogs; I should spend some more time with them anyway." He slid out of the car and slammed the door behind him as he joked, "They're going to start loving you more than me at this rate. You're like the nice parent who takes them out and plays games, and I'm the grouchy parent who accidentally eats their dog biscuits and falls asleep on them in the evening."

Offended on Jared's behalf, Harley and Sadie loped down the street to reassure him through the medium of tackle-hugs that they'd forgiven him for the dog biscuit incident. Crouching down, Jared briefly reveled in the experience of spending time with his dogs during daylight hours before looking back up at Jensen and saying with forced casualness, "Anyway, you should take the night off. Go have a drink, or see a movie, or spend some time with your boyfriend, or something." He nodded over to where Guitar Guy was now walking towards them. "Y'know, hang out."

Jensen's nose crinkled. "My boyfriend?"

Jared tried to ignore the spark of hope that flared up at his confusion and asked with intentional misunderstanding, "Oh, sorry, you're not gay?"

"Ha!" Both Jared and Jensen turned at the bark of laughter to see Guitar Guy standing behind them with an amused grin on his face. "Kid, they don't get much gayer than Jenny. He'd be in a tiara and high heels if you let him."

While Jared dealt with that mental picture (and found himself less disturbed than he thought he'd be), Jensen elbowed Guitar Guy squarely in the chest. "Shut up, Chris." He flashed Jared a teasing smile as he explained. "Yes, I'm gay. The tiaras are only for special occasions though."

Just when Jared thought Jensen couldn't get any more perfect, he managed to play down tiara accusations without flailing like an idiot. Looking between the two men, he inquired cautiously, "So are you two...?"

Chris snorted. "Fuck, no. This boy's single, and as fine as Jenny's ass is, there's no way I'm giving up women for him."

"Thank you, Chris," Jensen muttered sarcastically before replacing his professional exterior as he faced Jared. "Sorry about him. Listen, you sure you don't want me to take the dogs? It's not like I need to spend any more time with this moron."

Jared smirked at Chris, imagining him as the shorter, hairier, more musically talented version of Chad. "Yeah, I sympathize with that. But seriously, Jen, take the day off. I mean, it's not like I'd drive out here after you if I didn't mean it."

He grinned at him and was relieved when Jensen seemed to buy his excuse, but tried one final time, "You really don't need to..."

"Jensen." Jared gave him the stare he only ever employed when Harley and Sadie snacked on his best clothes. "Take the day off. That's an order."

Admitting defeat, Jensen mock-saluted with a smirk. "Aye, aye, captain."

"Awesome." Jared's stern facade vanished as he succumbed to the temptation of pirate jokes. "Why are pirates called pirates?"

Chris leaned in and answered with equal piratey enthusiasm, "Because they arrrrr!" Jensen rolled his eyes, but before he could protest, Chris shot back with his own, "What's a pirate's favorite store?"

Jared did not get to his station in life without knowing the most basic pirate jokes and returned with a grin, "Tarrrrrget. What's a pirate's favorite state?"

Chris looked delighted that someone shared his passion for bad jokes. "Arrrrkansas. What's a pirate's favorite animal?"

"Arrrrrmadillo. Too easy, dude." Pulling out the big guns (cannons?), Jared challenged, "How do pirates know they're pirates?"

Baffled, Chris frowned and Jared took advantage of the silence to announce, "They think, therefore they arrrrr!"

Jensen groaned but Chris willingly conceded the loss with a pat to Jared's shoulder. "Nice job, dude."

"I'm so glad I know you both," Jensen said with a sigh. "My life was so much emptier without seeing people have a pirate-off in public."

"Bitch, you love us," Chris asserted and ruffled Jensen's hair. (Not an easy feat given that Jensen was quite a lot taller than him.)

Sadie yapped impatiently at Jared's feet, informing him that she'd been stationary for too long and would now like to frolic again. Well-trained by his dog, Jared snagged the leashes and plastic bags from Jensen with the comment, "Guess I should finish up their run, huh?" He smiled at Jensen, feeling the happy heat of possibility spread through him at the thought that he was not dating the guy he'd out-pirated, and held out the car keys. "Take the car; I'll see you back at home later." Addressing Chris, he spoke over any of Jensen's possible objections, "Nice to meet you, man. Have a good one."

He tossed the car keys to Jensen and took off down the street with the dogs before he could protest, part of him wishing he could hear what Jensen murmured to Chris as he left.

  
**+++**  


  
**Mockery (or lack thereof), Concern**  


When Jared arrived home to see the SUV parked on his drive and the houselights on, he nearly danced in relief.

Or at least he would've danced in relief if the movement wouldn't have caused him to resemble a sprinkler.

Overjoyed at the prospect of getting to play with Jared, Harley and Sadie had become even more hyperactive than usual. After galloping through the streets, knocking over two pedestrians, and lapping up a stray ice cream, they had decided that the best way to conclude their excursion would be to leap into a large fountain with Jared in tow. Even though the dogs were happy to shake themselves off and wander the two blocks home, Jared had trudged the whole way back with soggy shoes, wet clothes, and the depressing thought that Jensen wouldn't even be there to greet him.

Therefore when he was greeted by the unmistakable aroma of Jensen's cooking and, a moment later, the unmistakable smile on Jensen's face, Jared was ready to ignore the possibility of Jensengeddon if Jensen's perfection could be harnessed for his own benefit.

Oven mitts on his hands, Jensen had evidently forgotten he had the night off and informed him, "I'm making chicken stir-fry if you're..."

He trailed off and Jared saw his mouth drop open as his eyes tracked over his soaked clothes and dripping hair. "Oh my God, what happened? You okay? Did you get hurt?"

Harley's answering bark sounded a little like a mischievous cackle and Jared shoved his bangs out of his eyes with a sigh. "I'm fine. I look like a drowned rat, but I'm fine."

"I wasn't going to bring it up," Jensen said with a wince, "but yeah, you do look kinda rodenty."

Sadie yapped. Apparently she was now thinking of eating Jared as well as drowning him.

"What happened, man? You were looking pretty decent when I left..."

Any glee Jared might have felt over the compliment was diminished by the story he then needed to tell. Going for the minimalist approach, he summarized, "I fell into a fountain."

Jensen quirked an eyebrow and he reluctantly elaborated, "Okay, so the dogs might have had something to do with it. They were excited, they were thirsty, the fountain was all cold and tempting..." He shrugged sheepishly. "I couldn't let go of their leashes in time." Jensen looked like he was struggling not to laugh and Jared pointed a warning finger at him. "Do not laugh at me, dude. I've just walked two blocks looking like a Waterworld reject; I've suffered enough for one day."

"I don't know what's more disturbing: you walking home like this or you choosing Waterworld to make comparisons with. Seriously, Jared, you couldn't think of any better movies?"

"I hate you."

His expression of deep, seething hatred was foiled by the girly, high-pitched sneeze which chose that moment to escape him. He sniffled miserably and was instantly deserted by Sadie and Harley, who trotted over to Jensen in search of disease-free pastures. The other man discarded the oven mitts, petted the dogs, and then wandered over to Jared with a sympathetic smile. "Go get warm and changed; I'll bring you some soup."

Jared tried to maintain his pitiful expression as he asked hopefully, "And candy?"

Jensen sighed, but indulged him. "I'll bring you some candy too. Now go get dry before you turn into Frosty the fricking Snowman."

"Oh, because that's a highbrow reference."

Jensen's hands went to his hips. "Do you want candy or not?"

Truly frightened, Jared nodded meekly. "Please, Sir, can I have some candy?"

Jensen smacked him on the arm and grimaced at the squelching sound. "Gross. Go clean up or you're feeding yourself."

"Gone."

Motivated by the threat of no candy, he sprinted upstairs without a backward glance, pants sticking unpleasantly to his legs.

After luxuriating in the heat of his shower and the knowledge that no animals or small children had peed in this water, Jared tucked himself up in his largest hoodie and most comfortable pair of sweats and succumbed to the urge to snuggle down in his blankets, waiting patiently for Jensen to bring him food like the perfect housekeeper/dog-sitter/non-boyfriend that he was.

Looking extra vulnerable when he heard Jensen coming up the stairs was totally not taking advantage.

The door swung open and Jared put on his best puppy-dog expression. "Candy?"

Jensen set down his tray and shook his head. "Nope."

Before Jared's world could come crashing down at the revelation that Jensen was actually Satan, he produced two small pills and a glass of water with the instruction, "You need to take a couple of vitamins first. With any luck, they should stop you coming down with a cold or the flu or something."

Too cozy to move his limbs, Jared settled for raising his eyebrows. "A cold? I'm not a kid, Jen. I'm a big, manly adult now."

"Uh-huh. A big, manly adult who's hiding in his bed like a little girl?"

"I'm not hiding. I'm just conserving body heat."

To Jared, the reasoning seemed plausible enough, but Jensen rolled his eyes. "Sure you are, Betty. You okay wearing that or do you want me to get your special pajamas with the candy canes and gumdrop buttons on?"

"Fuck you." He sneezed, glowering when Jensen chuckled. "You can't exactly talk about being a girl, Jenny. You're the one who does the cooking and the cleaning around here."

"I'm not the one who cries when he loses at Guitar Hero."

"I had something in my eye!" Sensing an impending barrage of insults, Jared nodded towards the tray as he compromised, "Okay, neither of us are girls. Can I have the candy now?"

"Nope."

"Jensen," he whined. "I'm about to die of hypothermia and I need sugar. If I go into a hypothermic coma and die, I'm so blaming you. My momma will come to my funeral and you'll have to explain to her how I died a horrible, painful death because you're a fucking candy-tease."

Yes, he knew he was exaggerating, but being a drama queen had its merits, and Jensen moved over to the bed with a glass of water in one hand and the pills and Twizzlers in the other.

"Fine. You can have candy, but only if you take both of these first. You're enough of a whiny bitch as it is, and I don't want you getting sick and being even whinier and even bitchier." Jared grinned in triumph and opened his mouth. "Oh, hell, no. I am not hand-feeding you, you lazy bastard."

The puppy-dog eyes were back and he coughed weakly. "But Jen, I'm sick..."

"Do you have arthritis?"

"No?"

"Spinal injuries?"

"No-"

"Any form of paralysis in your hand at all?"

"No, but-"

"Then you can put the pills in your own goddamn mouth." He pulled the covers away from Jared's hand and dropped the vitamins onto his palm with a smirk. "Enjoy."

Pouting, Jared swallowed them down and complained, "Your bedside manner sucks balls, Jen. I was hoping for Florence Nightingale rather than Doctor Cox."

Like giving a pacifier to a baby, Jensen popped a Twizzler into Jared's mouth to stop any maligning of his caretaking abilities.

Unlike giving a pacifier to a baby, Jared chewed through the Twizzler with ease so that he could continue their discussion.

(There had actually been some debate the previous month over whether Jared's teeth had somehow become adapted to eating candy, with Jared claiming he was like one of those dinosaurs that had teeth which were made for eating grass or for ripping off heads, and with Jensen telling him to shut the hell up because he wanted to watch the game.)

However, the sugar clearly had a positive effect as Jared's tone switched from accusatory to contemplative. "Y'know, you could be McDreamy instead. I'd prefer McDreamy to Doctor Cox."

Stirring a bowlful of soup, Jensen set it down by his bed while he inquired, "Not Doctor Ross?"

Mid-snuggle in his blankets, Jared frowned. "Who?"

"Doug Ross?"

Blank.

"ER?"

Still blank.

"George Clooney?"

"Ohhh..."

Jensen sat on the edge of the bed, absent-mindedly easing the bowl of soup into Jared's hands as he said, "You've watched enough Grey's Anatomy to know who McDreamy is, but you never watched the Clooney years of ER?"

Jared shrugged, answering openly, "I didn't figure out I was gay till after Clooney left." Jensen sighed, and he wiggled his spoon at him in a chiding fashion. "Hey, no judging me for watching Grey's Anatomy."

Eyeing Jared's damp mop of hair, Jensen teased, "Guess you've got to get your hair inspiration from somewhere..."

Jared debated flicking a spoonful of soup at him in retribution but decided it was too tasty to waste. Not remembering seeing any cans of Minestrone in his cupboards, he said between mouthfuls, "You did not just make this while I was in the shower. I know you're like a fucking magician, but there is no way you can make soup that fast."

He honestly felt a little disappointed when Jensen shook his head and crushed his magic-Jensen thoughts. "Nope, it was pre-made. I had some spare time on Monday and made up a batch then."

Jared looked between Jensen and the bowl and was filled with awe as well as with delicious soup. "How are you so awesome?"

"Because I sold my soul to the Devil in exchange for the recipe for Minestrone soup," Jensen deadpanned.

"Cool." He gulped down some more soup. "As long as you don't go turning my dogs into Hellhounds, we're good." More soup. More thoughts. "And you're not allowed to go to Hell either." He yawned. "I wanna keep you."

Rescuing the almost-empty bowl before its contents splattered on the bed, Jensen set it on the nightstand as Jared basked in the warmth of his bed. "Hate to break it to you, Jay, but I'm not a dog."

"Psht." Jared was not fazed by such obstacles. "You're practically a dog."

Looking himself up and down, Jensen frowned at Jared. "How d'you figure?"

Sinking further into the comfort of his bed, Jared mumbled sleepily, "You're all useful and reliable and cute."

From the blurry view he had of Jensen's face, Jared thought he looked more amused than offended when he repeated, "Cute?!"

"Yup." He stretched out with another yawn, realizing it was probably about 8pm but really not caring. "You're adorable."

"If you weren't looking so pathetic, I'd smack you right now, Padalecki." Jensen huffed and Jared held back a mildly delirious giggle as Jensen proved his accusation of adorableness. "I'm not cute."

"You are." Summoning up as much energy as he could, Jared swung an arm up and patted Jensen on the head with a childish grin. "I just wanna pet you."

"The fuck?" Jensen slapped his hand away and Jared laughed. "Did you give yourself a concussion when you went fountain diving?"

"No..." Jared drawled, wriggling into a more comfortable position on his side before looking up at Jensen. "Maybe it was you. Maybe you drugded me..."

"I didn't 'drugded' you, Jay." He grinned. "I didn't drug you either. They were the same vitamins you take every morning."

Jared saw the look of concern on Jensen's face but flailed in confusion when Jensen's hand loomed in front of his face. "What you doing?"

Jensen's hand landed on his forehead and, expecting some joke about his gigantic head, Jared frowned when the look of concern didn't disappear. "You're running a fever. I don't think it's too bad, but you're gonna have to take it easy." He ran a hand through his hair, managing a weak smile. "This is why you shouldn't jump in fountains."

Relieved that he wasn't dying, Jared gave a tired shrug. "Y'already know I'm an idiot." His mischievous grin crept back in place. "You're still adorable though."

Jensen scooped up the tray with a sigh. "I'm gonna get out of here before you try to slap a collar on me and call me Fido. Go to sleep, Jared."

Yawning again at the instruction, Jared closed his eyes, not sure whether his words were making it out of his mouth in an intelligible form. "Not gonna call you Fido, Jen. 'Cause if you're a dog and I think you're hot then that's kinda gross. You're not a hot dog, Jen." He smiled sleepily to himself. "Ha. Hotdog. No dog. Just hot..."

He thought he felt Jensen's hand smoothing over his bangs before he drifted off, but when he tried to open his eyes to check, they refused to comply.

  
**+++**  


  
**Aiding relaxation, Following through on semi-intimate hair-teasing**  


"Oh, God, yeah."

Moaning in pleasure, he encouraged, "Yeah, Jen, like that. Little harder..."

Jensen obliged and he groaned with satisfaction. "Mmm, fuck yeah..."

Sprawled on the bed, he heard Jensen say sarcastically from above him, "Gee, Jared, sound more like a porn-star."

Jensen's oiled hands worked over his shoulders as Jared laughed, low and deep. "Does that make you my fluffer?"

Jensen cuffed him round the back of the head. "You can massage your own damn back next time."

Thinking about the hours of hinting, whining and persuading he'd put in that evening to convince Jensen to give him a massage, Jared backtracked quickly, "I'm sorry. You're not a fluffer."

He smiled when Jensen stopped pummeling his back and went back to kneading his shoulders with a much healthier level of violence. Holding back any moans and whimpers, he surrendered to Jensen's ministrations, thankful that he was lying on his stomach and so could hide any effects caused by Jensen straddling his half-naked body.

After the events of the previous week and the brief scare that Jensen either had a boyfriend (he didn't) or would quit his job because Jared sleepily compared him to a dog (he hadn't), Jared had filtered his memories of that fever-filled evening down to "Jensen bringing him food" and "Jensen playing with his hair". He'd then spent the next week trying to work out whether Jensen might actually feel something for him or whether he was being creepy and sleazy by coming on to his employee. Unfortunately, Jensen had been oblivious to his hints and so Jared had resorted to feigning stress and back pain to lure Jensen into bed with him.

Even if it was only for a massage.

"Mmm..."

Jensen chuckled, thumbs working a knot out of Jared's back. (Apparently the back pain wasn't entirely feigned.) "That feel better?"

"So much better," Jared replied honestly. Hands slicked with oil, Jensen rubbed lines down his spine with the heel of his hand, pushing Jared into the mattress and further into the peace of relaxation. He yawned, eyes closing as he wondered, "Dude, what are you not good at?"

"Juggling."

Jared cocked his head, not having considered this as a possible flaw. "Really?"

"Nope." He dug his thumbs into Jared's lower back. "I can juggle."

Head buried in the pillow, Jared laughed. "This is my point. Totally my point." His words slurred together as he murmured, "You're amazing, Jensen. Honest to God, I never want you to leave. You need to stay here with me. Forever." Without warning, he rolled over, grasping Jensen's wrist to stop him being thrown off and saying with a teasing grin, "And ever and ever and ever."

His grin broadened when Jensen didn't immediately leap off the bed but settled next to him and crossed his legs Indian-style. "Why are you suddenly an eight-year-old girl and what have you done with Jared?"

"Shut up, bitch." He elbowed him half-heartedly, still feeling massaged into nothingness. "I'm serious though. What would I do without you?" Jensen opened his mouth to retort but Jared pre-empted, "And don't make some smart-ass comment about me failing epically without you. It's true, but not the point." He flashed him a smile, his expression laid open by his tiredness. "I like you, Jensen. You're so fucking perfect and I really want to hate you for it, but I don't and I can't and I like you."

A surprised but pleased smile crept over Jensen's lips and taking it as success, Jared pushed on, words slipping from his lips, "The dogs love you, you clean like the Tasmanian fucking Devil, you make awesome food, you kick my ass on the X-Box, you give incredible massages, and I'm pretty sure you couldn't do anything wrong if you tried."

The brightness of Jensen's smile dimmed and Jared frowned, searching his eyes for some clue but finding them blank and closed. Unsure what he'd said wrong, he tugged him closer and went back to what had worked earlier. "I like you, Jen."

Jensen smiled again, and Jared tried to ignore the usual sparkle missing from his eyes. "I like you too, man."

Jared knew something wasn't right - Jensen was too quiet, there was too much tension in the air - but he hadn't always been known to look before he leaped. Not sure if he'd ever have the chance to replicate the circumstances of both of them being mellow, open and together (and in bed), he leaned in, reaching out tentatively to cup Jensen's cheek and bring their faces close together. Jensen flinched under his touch, swallowing convulsively but tongue darting out to lick his lips. Eyes flicking between Jensen's moistened lips and his stormy eyes, he closed the gap, hoping Jensen's perfection wouldn't fail them now.

It didn't.

As much as Jared had thought about the feel of Jensen's mouth against his own, the reality produced a deeper satisfaction than any fantasy. The softness of his lips at the initial contact sent tingles through Jared's skin which intensified to sparks at the pleasurable scrape of Jensen's stubble against his jaw, and Jared's tongue played against his full bottom lip before slipping inside to tease Jensen's. He smiled into the kiss when Jensen yielded to him with a whimper and let out a low moan of his own as Jensen's hand threaded through his hair, gripping with more force than Jared would've guessed.

He let him dictate the speed, content to be along for the ride, but felt wrongness flood through him again when Jensen pulled back, unhappy gaze skittering away as he mumbled, "I'm sorry..."

When Jensen darted out of the room without saying any more and when Jared came downstairs the next morning to find breakfast ready but Jensen out, part of him wished Jensen's perfection had failed before rather than after.

  
**+++**  


  
**Choice in friends**  


Ever since he was a child, Jared had a morbid fear of Oompa Loompas.

This fear extended to any short, long-haired people with musical inclinations and scary eyes, and so when he caught Chris' gaze in the middle of the Dallas financial district the next day, the urge to flee was overwhelming.

"You fucking jackass!"

The shout rose above the small crowd who had gathered around to listen to him play and before Jared could work out a path of retreat, Chris had abandoned his set and was charging through the group of people, looking ready to use his guitar as a Jared-targeted battering ram.

Finally coming to a stop, he glared up at Jared. "What the fuck did you think you were doing?"

The gaggle of bystanders quickly dispersed and Jared answered hopefully, "I was listening to you play?"

Chris raised his eyebrows. "You really think that's what I was asking you?"

Tie feeling way too tight, Jared admitted sheepishly, "No..."

"You're a frickin’ genius," Chris spat. Sarcasm was evidently a large part of Jensen's friends' repertoire as well as Jensen's own. "What did you do to Jenny?"

"Nothing!" The other man did not look convinced, and Jared corrected, "I might have kissed him."

"Yeah, I know that, Sherlock. And because Jen's the love-struck pup that he is, he kissed back. Don't mean you should've done it."

Feeling oddly threatened, he defended, "Hey, I didn't force him into anything. Wasn't like I just jumped him and-" He mimed hungry kissing, realized how unpleasant it looked, and stopped. He then processed Chris' earlier words. "Wait, 'love-struck pup'?"

Chris pursed his lips impatiently.

The desired epiphany struck. "Holy shit, Jensen's in love with me?"

Chris sighed. "I swear to God, if you get any slower, you'll be going backwards."

Jared ignored him. "Jensen's in love with me?"

"I don't know about 'in love' exactly," the other man said, "but you've got him convinced that the sun shines outta your ass." Jared remained gobsmacked. "You seriously tellin' me you didn't notice? Dude, I saw the two of you interact for all of a minute and I had it down. Didn't figure you for being such an ass though."

"Wait." Jared's brain was still stuck on loans and interest rates, and this was all going far too fast. "How am I an ass? I like Jensen - I told him that last night, and then he just ran off and started avoiding me. What am I supposed to do?"

"That depends," Chris answered calmly.

Jared wanted to growl. "What, you sidelining as a fortune cookie now? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means," Chris stressed patronizingly, "that you need to work out how you like Jensen. And I don't mean like in what position - that's between you and your bedposts - but in what way you like him. If it's how he thinks you like him, then put him out of his goddamn misery and either fire him or stop trying to get in his pants. But if you do like him, and I mean really, honestly like him, then pull your finger out your ass and do something about it."

Jared frowned, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of threat-sounding advice. "How does Jensen think I like him? I thought I made the 'really, honestly' part pretty clear last night."

"You sure about that, kid?" Chris asked, sounding calmer. "Not like I was there, but you oughta think carefully about what you told Jenny you liked about him."

Frown deepening, Jared recalled the pleased smile on Jensen's lips that faded to something closer to disappointment and thought hard about the words that brought about the change of expression.

"Oh, shit..."

Chris provided a twang of his guitar strings as a musical accompaniment to this conclusion. "You got it, bucko."

"But he-" Collecting his thoughts, Jared tried again, suddenly feeling like he'd slept through the flood and was now drowning in previously shallow waters. "He kissed me back. If he figured that was all I thought of him, why did he kiss me back?"

There was pity in Chris' voice when he answered, but Jared didn't know who it was for. "Because Jensen never had a problem with settling for second best. God knows, I've told him he doesn't need to compromise on everything, but if that's the only way he could have you, he'd have taken it, even if it killed him." The menacing tone, as well as Jared's Oompa Loompa fear, was back as he added, "You use him like that, and I'll kill you, you got me?"

Nodding hastily, Jared affirmed, "Got you."

"Good." Chris grinned and Jared reminded himself of their pirate-off in an effort to calm himself down. "Now go sort your shit out. I'm done with the relationship counseling - you're worse than two chicks." He pondered, "Hmm, wonder if lesbians have these issues. I could definitely counsel them."

"I think you've found your niche in life."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Go play Prince Charming, asshole."

"Yes, Fairy Godmother."

"Fuck off."

  
**+++**  


  
**Coping with awkwardness, Sharing true feelings, Compromise**  


"Jen Jenny-Jen, Jen Jenny-Jen, Jen Jen Jen-ee, you can't hold your liquor no better than me..."

Lying next to him on the slight incline of the rooftop, Jensen laughed loudly at his singing and Jared felt a surge of satisfaction at the success of his plan.

After being given firm instructions by Chris during his lunch break, Jared had braved the anger of his boss and had left work early with the intention of going home and setting things straight with Jensen. However, his bravery had failed when he'd walked through the door and seen that Jensen had switched back into uber-professional mode, expressing his polite surprise that Jared was home and offering him everything from food to medication to massages. He had stopped short of offering sexual favors, but Jared suspected it had been next on his list and desperately wanted to halt the speeding train before it shot from on-the-job flirting to something scarily close to prostitution.

Instead of any deep, meaningful conversations, Jared had dealt with the situation in the easiest way possible: getting drunk.

Not that he was trying to take advantage of Jensen - he definitely didn't need the alcohol for that - but he figured that the only way of getting through Jensen's almost impenetrable (and perfectly polished) defenses was to get them both to loosen up a little.

Judging by the fact that they were lying on the roof hours later, looking up at the stars, nursing their beers and butchering various songs, Jared decided they were suitably loose.

Hand behind his head, Jared glanced over as Jensen said with a pout, "I can't think of a song with your name." He tapped the beer bottle against the roof and grinned, singing to the tune of the conga, "Jared, Jared, Ja-red!"

Jared laughed, the sound drifting out into the quiet of the night. "You're musically gifted, Jen."

Jensen took another swig of beer, wrinkling his nose adorably at the bubbles. "Shush."

Chuckling, Jared copied the motion before leaning back and pointing. "That kinda looks like a duck."

Jensen tilted his head at the canopy of stars. "How the fuck is that a duck?"

"Ha." The stars blurred at the edges of his vision as he giggled. "Fuck a duck."

"I'll pass, thanks." Jensen grimaced but stated with drunken conviction, "No fucking, no duck...ing."

"That would make way more sense if it actually made sense." Jared frowned as he tried to comprehend that sentence. "Know what? You're right. No fucking, no ducking." He sat up, turning to face Jensen as he declared, "I am not a duck."

"Thanks for the newsflash."

Jensen apparently missed the significance of this announcement so Jared tried again. "No, I mean that I am not a duck. There will be absolutely no ducking." He narrowed his eyes, shooting for intense rather than squinty. "Why are we not making out right now?"

He waited while Jensen choked on his beer. "What?!"

"Why are we not making out?" he repeated patiently. "I like you, I'm pretty sure you like me, and unless I'm reading this entire thing wrong, there was sparkage last night. So why are we not having hot sex right now?"

"Because we'd fall off the roof," Jensen replied with infuriating practicality. He took another sip of his beer. "But we can have hot sex inside if you want to?"

"No!" Jared knew there was a point to this line of attack somewhere. Attacks were no good without pointy parts.

"You don't want to have hot sex?" Jensen toyed with his beer bottle. "You prefer mediocre sex? I could probably manage mediocre sex."

Stunned that Jensen could pronounce 'mediocre' in this state, Jared nonetheless refrained from applauding. "No, I do. I do want hot sex. Hot sex is good. And hot. And sexy. But I don't know if you want hot sex." Jensen opened his mouth but Jared clapped a hand over it and then grinned foolishly at the thought that Jensen was kissing his palm right then. "And don't tell me that you do want sex because you think it'll make me happy. You're not supposed to make me happy. You're supposed to make you happy. And I'm supposed to make you happy too, and I don't know if hot sex will do that."

Jensen's big green eyes met his and Jared got lost in them for a moment before realizing that his hand was still over Jensen's mouth. "Oops." He removed it and patted Jensen's cheek instead. "Sorry."

After testing that his mouth was still there, Jensen reassured with a clumsy nod, "Hot sex will definitely make me happy."

He smiled bashfully and before Jared could continue his excellently thought-out argument, Jensen was kissing him.

Like his previous experience with Jensen kisses, it was hot and sweet and now just the right side of messy as Jensen licked his lips open and slipped inside, torso flush against Jared's in the cool of the night breeze. Jensen's hands were in his hair, beer bottle clunking lightly against the side of his head and it was all Jared could do not to drown in his touch.

Wrenching his lips away, he shuffled backward, feeling like he'd stolen candy from a baby at the forlorn look on Jensen's face. "What's wrong? Are you not happy?"

"No, no, Jen," he denied quickly. "I'm happy, I am, it's just... I don't know why you're kissing me. Okay, that's a lie; I do know why you're kissing me, but you don't know why I'm kissing you."

Jensen looked pouty and suspicious and dear God, Jared wanted to shut his mouth and go back to the kissing. Knowing, even in his inebriated state, that talking was more important, he pushed on, "You think I'm doing this because I like having you around, and that I wanna have sex with you just like I wanna have you clean my bathroom, make my food and look after my dogs."

It nearly killed him when Jensen's expression was one of utter bemusement, not understanding that Jared would want to be with him for any other reason. "You don't like having me around?"

"No!" He sighed, wondering why he always had to ask questions that didn't have a simple answer. "I mean, yes, I love having you around, Jensen. I love what you do round the house and how you are with the dogs and all the other employee crap."

The bashful smile was back. "You told me this last night, Jay."

"Yeah, but I'm an idiot." The smile vanished, and Jared started to question whether the words coming out of his mouth were even in English. "What I said last night, they aren't the only reasons I like having you around, Jen. Sure, it's useful to have all that stuff, but I like you for you, y'know? All your smart-ass comments, and the way you look when you play guitar, and how ridiculously excited you get about alphabetizing the grocery list..."

"I like things being in order." Despite the sulky tone, Jared saw a smile playing on the other man's lips and grinned.

"And I like that you like things being in order. It does border on OCD, but I love it." He wrapped his arms around him, giving him no say in the matter as he murmured in his ear, "I kinda love you."

If he hadn't already had something more important to do with his arms, Jared would've flailed with glee when the happy sparkle came back to Jensen's eyes, the same surprised, pleased smile that he'd destroyed yesterday now crossing his face again as he whispered back, "I might kinda love you too."

Pulling him tighter into his arms so their noses were almost touching, Jared said happily, "You're fired."

A mixture of confusion and amusement was painted across Jensen's face in the moonlight. "This is your chat-up line?"

"Hey, I don't say this to all the guys," he teased, rubbing Jensen's nose with his own and laughing at the nudge to the ribs he got in retaliation. "But I'm serious. I don't wanna be your employer and have you worrying about keeping me happy. God knows, I want you to stay here and keep doing whatever you like doing, but I don't want you to work for me anymore." He nuzzled against Jensen's neck, the warmth of his body inviting and comforting. "I just want you to be with me."

He felt Jensen smile against him. "That'd work for me."

Pulling back, he met his eyes as he questioned, "Would that make you happy? Really?"

Jensen's answer was a slow kiss to his lips and Jared believed every word of it.

Hand cupping the back of Jensen's head, he responded gently, part of him worried about a repeat of the previous evening but mostly just wanting to savor every second of the encounter. It didn't stay gentle for long when Jensen melted into the touch, body pressed up against Jared's as he climbed to straddle his lap. He tasted of beer and salt where a flavor could be distinguished beneath the soft heat of his lips and tongue, and Jared relaxed back against the tiles of the roof, letting Jensen sink further into his arms and allowing the kiss to deepen. He smoothed up and down his spine, enjoying the way Jensen's body ground against his, and tilted his head up to expose his neck and jaw to Jensen's messy but enthusiastic kisses.

The chuckles vibrated between both their chests as Jensen missed Jared's neck, and Jared petted him mockingly when he ducked his head in embarrassment. "You wanna take this inside, Jen? Or am I getting between you and my roof?"

Jensen smiled, looking more open than Jared had ever seen him as he teased, "Well, I wasn't gonna say anything..."

"Oh, fuck no." Gripping the back of Jensen's thighs, he tugged him up his body and rolled them over. "I'm so not letting you choose the roof over me." He debated the wisdom of hoisting him up in his arms and carrying him off, but gravity and his alcohol level were not on his side and he offered instead, "Bed?"

Jensen beamed, eyes bright even in the moonlight. "Awesome plan."

  
**+++**  


  
**Sex**  


"Holy mother of fuck-"

  
**+++**  


  
**Dealing with the morning after**  


"N'urgh."

Beyond excited by the fact that Jensen was as incoherent as him in the mornings, Jared couldn't resist poking him again.

"N'urrrrgh."

Jensen burrowed deeper into the pillows.

Jared kissed the back of his neck.

Jensen growled. "I hate you."

Kissing him again, Jared sat back while he rolled over, rubbing his eyes and blinking up at him with a half-hearted scowl. "Why am I awake right now?"

"You're up way before now normally," Jared pointed out.

"Yeah, but that was before you fired me," Jensen groused and Jared felt a stab of panic that he'd made a horrible mistake the night before.

His fears were assuaged slightly when he saw Jensen smile, but he asked with concern, "You still okay with last night? You weren't too drunk or anything? You remember what happened?"

He'd already figured that Jensen must've remembered them having sex, seeing as how he hadn't leapt out of bed when he found Jared beside him, but he felt like a weight was lifted when Jensen replied sleepily, "Yeah, Jay, I remember and I'm not gonna call take-backs now." He reached out to toy with Jared's bangs, voice gravelly and sated as he spoke, "You want me to give you a rundown? I wanna stay here, I wanna be with you, I love you..." He smirked. "And I had some really great sex last night." His smile disappeared as he checked, "You don't- I mean, you still mean what you said, right?"

Jared nodded vehemently, feeling his head pound with a reminder of the impending hangover as he did so. "Yep. Every word, dude." Leaning over, he planted a sloppy kiss on Jensen's pillow-creased cheek. "I love you too."

Jensen made a noise of disgust and swiped at the slobber on his face. "This is why your dogs are so drooly. They learn from you."

"You love me," he reminded. "No changing your mind now."

"Fine," Jensen relented, ruffling his hair. "But I could use some persuading."

"Persuading, huh?" He nipped at Jensen's ear. "I can do that."

Jensen laughed beneath him as he moved on top on him, pinning him down and mouthing his way down his collarbone and bare chest. He scraped his teeth over his nipples, large hands spanning his hips as he held down the smiling but wriggling Jensen, and he flicked his tongue into his navel to the sound of Jensen's groan. "God, your tongue..."

Spurred on by the encouragement as well as the naked expanse of Jensen beneath him, Jared kept moving, tracing the line of faint hair down from his stomach. His hands slid up Jensen's thighs, and just as he parted the other man's legs, he felt a hand tugging his head up and away. Face pale, Jensen stumbled out of bed, running to the bathroom with the yelled apology, "I'm sorry!"

Collapsing back on the bed when the sounds of Jensen's vomiting traveled into the bedroom, Jared smiled to himself, not happy to receive that reaction to his advances but pleased to know that Jensen was actually human.

  
**+++**  


  
**Relationships**  


"I can't believe you packed a picnic."

Jensen looked offended and curled a protective arm around his wicker picnic basket. "I thought you liked me making you food."

"I do. But, dude..." He gestured to the house on the other side of his (admittedly expansive) yard. "The kitchen's right there."

"Sit down and stop complaining."

"Yes, Sir."

With a grin, he dropped down to the blanket beside Jensen, snatching a grape from a bowl as he saw the dogs gallop across the grass. Even though Jensen was no longer employed to look after Harley and Sadie after Jared had fired him three months earlier, the dogs' love for him hadn't diminished in the slightest, especially as Jensen now took them out with him when he looked after other people's dogs during the day. The arrangement worked out well for all of them: Jared continued to work his way up through the bank hierarchy and bring in the big bucks, Jensen kept him in the lifestyle to which he'd become accustomed as well as getting to do a job that he loved, and Harley and Sadie spent their days making lots of new doggie friends. It was a win-win-win situation.

Propping himself up on his elbows, Jared watched Sadie leap haphazardly at the kite that he'd strung from the tree. He'd played with the dogs and the kite all morning and Sadie had yet to realize that she was not twenty feet tall and couldn't reach the kite just by jumping up in the air. Harley was occupied by more self-centered matters and was pursuing his own tail with a vengeance.

"You wanna eat? Or you just wanna sit and stare at the trees all day?" Jensen finished laying out their lunch and added, "'Cause I know they're nice trees, Jay, but I don't think you've ever turned down food before."

"Not gonna start now," Jared confirmed, picking up another grape and tossing it into his mouth with a triumphant flourish before looking down at the food on the blanket. "Just in case you missed it, I bow to your incredible food-making skills."

Jensen shrugged modestly. "Hey, the more food you get, the more sex you want. I'm in this for selfish reasons."

Rolling onto his back, he let Jensen slip a carrot stick into his mouth before he commented, "See, this is why I love you."

"Because I make you lunch, because I have sex with you, or because I hand-feed you like the lazy fucker you are?"

Jared pulled him down for a carroty kiss. "All of the above. And because you're awesome." He reached over to grab a handful of chips, shaking his head in disbelief at the array of food. "And because you can fit an insane amount of food into the tiniest, girliest picnic basket ever."

"Who said it was just food?" Jensen asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and Jared propped himself up to see that the bottom of the basket was lined with what looked like their entire collection of sex toys.

Jared smirked in approval. "Dude, I have no idea where you learned to construct a sex toy jigsaw in a picnic basket, but I salute you for it."

Like so many of their interactions, 'salute' turned out to be code for 'give a long sloppy kiss to' and when they finally broke apart, Jensen settled next to Jared, staring up at the clouds as he admitted, "I was always good at Tetris."

"You're good at everything," Jared pointed out cheerfully before swooping in for another kiss. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

With a soft noise of contentment, Jensen rested his head in the crook of Jared's arm, bodies nestling together as the dogs yapped behind them. Watching the clouds drift into shapes across the wide Texan sky, Jared yawned, lulled to sleepiness by the gentle wind which skimmed over them both.

Jensen shifted next to him, his short hair tickling Jared's upper arm, and Jared felt his own bangs brush over his forehead when the breeze gradually shifted too, cooling the layer of sweat on his skin and sending pleasurable relief ghosting through him. His eyes drifted shut but he blinked them open, taking in the clouds floating above him, dogs barking behind him, blanket spread around him and, most importantly, Jensen snuggled beside him.

Jared thought it was as close to perfection as he could get until he looked down to see Jensen's eyes locked on his face. The realization was like the whisper of the wind and a smile crept across his face at the feeling that, as far as Jensen was concerned, he was perfect too.


End file.
